Page 172 of The Forsaken Heir
I shuddered. The voice was aperfectmatch.
Nausea and terror flooded my system.
“Holy shit,” Rasp muttered. “What thefuckis going on? Is it really a skinwalker?”
I’d never actually come face-to-face with one, so I couldn’t tell for sure. They were exceedingly rare. In fact, they were supposedly one of the rarest creatures in the world. The spells required to achieve perfect mimicry were too difficult for all but the most-advanced and mentally twisted magic users. The legends said that they were able to mimic anything and used that to lure unwary people to their doom. This…thing…could be that, but I had no way of knowing for sure.
Vince sniffed the air and shook his head. “That… I’m not sure what that is, but it doesn’t smell like Aurelius.” He grimaced.“It’s been coated in dragon pheromones or something. Bastien’s trying to hide what it is,” he hissed, keeping his voice low.
That knowledge alone ruled out a skinwalker. According to the legends, they could mimic the look, the voice, and the scent of anyone. If Bastien had gone to the trouble of coating it in pheromones, then this was not a skinwalker.
My mind worked overtime, trying to recall everything I’d learned in my lessons as a kid. Most of what we’d been taught as high-born shifters was about our enemies and their strengths and weaknesses, but there had been plenty about other magical creatures. None were as numerous as shifters or even the smaller numbers of fae, but there were still dozens of beasts and monsters that were the original basis for everything from vampires and Bigfoot to sea monsters and ghosts. This, whatever it was, had to be rarer than any.
Even Sahalie and the other Hikshil looked startled by the presentation of the prisoner, though they managed to steady themselves quickly. Achakos stepped forward first, eyeing the imposter.
“Tell me, young man, are you Aurelius Decimus? I beseech the honest answer, unbound by magical coercion.” While she spoke, she drew some strange symbol in the air before the imposter, and one of the gems in a ring on her right hand glowed bright orange.
He gazed up at her, a sad smile on his lips, as the translucent symbol—a swirling pinwheel with a few hashmarks on the outer edge—shone in the air for an instant before vanishing.
“I am Aurelius Decimus. Crown prince and heir to the throne of dragons. I am a terrorist, and I am sorry for the pain I have caused and the lives I’ve ruined.”
Achakos straightened quickly, looking surprised by the response. After gathering herself, she nodded slowly and joined us again.
In a low voice, she said, “Not a skinwalker, and not a changeling either. The spell I cast would not have allowed a lie to come from its lips.”
“A potion perhaps?” Kaskawan asked. “Something they’ve created from one of their wellsprings?”
Achakos shook her head. “If so, it’s the most advanced magical potion I’ve ever seen.”
“Let me have a go,” he said. He strode toward the thing and extracted a small pouch from his pocket.
The imposter smiled up sadly at Kaskawan. “More questions? It’s me. You all know it. Just admit it so we can put it all behind us. Bastien says he’ll allow you all to go free and take my family and household across the ocean.Please. I will still be executed, but I don’t want anyone I love to be hurt. It’s a sacrifice I’m willingandhappy to make.”
Unconsciously, I took Delphine’s hand. She squeezed my fingers hard. The emotion and pain in his voice was so gut-wrenching, I had to look up at the sky again. That tiny black speck poked out from the clouds again, reassuring me.
Kaskawan opened the pouch and poured golden sand into his palm. He raised it above his head and addressed the crowd.
“Focused magical powder created from the last vestiges of the long-dead Wellspring Sea that once lay at the center of what is now Mexico. Even before the first European boots struck the ground here, it was the greatest and most powerful wellspring in existence, even greater than the Great Northern wellspring we Hikshil are the stewards of. This sand can wipe away any spell, neutralize any potion, and heal all magical wounds.” Kaskawan bent low to level his gaze with the fake Aurelius. “Do you wish to tell the truth of your identity? Or do you want to continue this charade?”
The man who looked exactly like the man I loved, shrugged his shoulders weakly, his chains rattling as he did. “I am Prince Aurelius Decimus. Nothing can change that.” He nodded to the powder in Kaskawan’s hand. “No potion or spell is making me say this. Do it. Show everyone I am who I say I am.”
Kaskawan flung the powder toward the imposter. The golden substance burst into a thick opaque fog or mist, thicker than it had any right to be. It enveloped the thing with Aurelius’s face until it was completely obscured. Kaskawan stepped back, watching warily as tiny electric sparks cracked through it like a miniature thundercloud.
When the last crackle of magical electricity faded, and the cloud drifted to the ground, the thing that lookedlike Aurelius remained. Kaskawan stared at the man for a few seconds before nodding and returning to our group. The crowd was no longer silent. The conversations weren’t even whispered now, and a rumble grew around us. Bastien crossed his arms and gave me a cocky smile.
“Does he pass your tests yet?” he called out.
“No,” I said, unable to help myself as Kaskawan returned to our group.
He wagged his finger at me. “I wasn’t talking to you, dearsister,” he said, sneering at the last word. “If that’s what you really are.”
“Let me speak with him,” Sahalie said, ignoring Bastien’s words.
The younger woman stepped forward with slow, deliberate steps, locking eyes with the thing on his knees.
“Please,” the imposter said, sounding exhausted and utterly depleted. “Let it end. Ibegyou.”
Angry voices cried out from the crowd.
